When I Start Thinking, All Is Lost.

When I Start Thinking, All Is Lost.

Under This Fine Rain I Breathe In The Innocence Of The World. I Feel Coloured By The Nuances Of Infinity. At This Moment I Am One With My Picture. We Are An Iridescent Chaos.

The Sun Penetrates Me Soundlessly Like A Distant Friend That Stirs Up My Laziness, Fertilizes It. We Bring Forth Life.

I Owe You The Truth In Painting, And I Will Tell It To You.

One Must See One's Model Correctly And Experience It In The Right Way; And Furthermore Express Oneself Forcibly And With Distinction.